Transparent2TheWorld

The ticking time bomb In my chest is a warped clock Nigh to strike midnight

As Yolologist, I have infinite lives while You only live once

I used to be the golden girl, that was a "once upon a time" ago but my stars still burn in the shapes of lions, like they haven't, yet, gotten the message; I have burned out, no longer a symbol of the wonders of the wild, my eyes are no longer nebulas forming but are iced embers lodged in porcelain skin, my lips are not ripe cherries ready to be plucked but are pomegranate; caging my voice in a depth not even Hades could reach but, somehow, a golden halo still clouds the atmosphere of my head, hiding me because I lack courage; a mute poet in a labyrinth of my own concrete words and robin-songed metaphors and one day they will find th

maybe it’s good that such an ugly girl has such a pretty paranoia, she’s too chaotic no one can hold her anymore, there's nothing real about her; she clings like smoke to half recalled daydreams; broken apart by reality she’d rather linger in forgotten memories,   just breaking herself with a delicate ferocity rather than succumbing to the rest; becoming just another savage girl on a path of roses, instead she’ll continue to point out the constellations with crooked ash stained fingertips and unlace the strings that tie her fate so she can run away